


Ridiculous Inflatable Swan Thing

by USSFriendship



Series: WinterHawk Mandatory Fun Day [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Ridiculous Inflatable Swan Thing, Seasonal, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Winter sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USSFriendship/pseuds/USSFriendship
Summary: Clint is fucking OVER winter.Mandatory Fun DayMarch 29th:This tumblr post





	Ridiculous Inflatable Swan Thing

“Clint?” Bucky calls as he walks through the apartment door. “Clint, I have food. Can you help?” he tries again, after getting no reply. After another few seconds without a reply, he sighs and heads into the kitchen to put the take out on the counter and start taking off his bulky winter outerwear. It isn’t literally freezing anymore and all the snow is finally melted and gone, but it is unseasonably cold for the end of March in New York, so coats and gloves and all the extra bullshit are still required - especially for Bucky, who still has a hard time with the cold - and take a while to strip off. A few minutes pass and he is down to just his henley, jeans, and bare feet, and has yet to get a response from Clint. Weird and a little annoying, but not terribly out of the ordinary, so whatever. Grabbing his socks, he heads for the bedroom to toss them in the hamper and look for his wayward partner. 

About halfway to be bedroom he starts to hear the music, and can tell it is _Rockaway Beach_ by the Ramones just before he crosses the threshold. This, at least makes a little sense; Clint must be in the shower, so he won’t have his aides in, but still wants to feel the music. Having some sort of explanation causes the silly little worry that had started creeping its way across Bucky’s shoulders to lessen. He drops his socks in the hamper and walks into the bathroom without bothering to knock, because it isn’t like Clint would be able to hear him anyway, and all he can think about it joining his incredibly hot boyfriend in the shower to chase away the last of the cold that is still clinging to his skin.

Unlike Steve, he didn’t have to completely reacquaint himself with the present when he finally brushed off his Hydra programming; he knows about computers and that there are no flying cars and all of that, but he has missed out on a lot of the social aspects of it. There is a fair bit of that Bucky doesn’t get or straight up doesn’t like, like snapchat filters and the increasingly weird and lame “challenges” that seem to crop up every couple of weeks, but there are some things that he find he really enjoys. Especially the “expectation vs reality” ones. Usually, at least. The one Darcy had posted to the official Avengers instagram a couple of weeks ago, for example, was pretty great: the expectation photo had been a PR shot, with the whole team in full uniform and battle stances, while the reality was taken on a movie night, and everyone was in pajamas and eating snacks, except for Clint, who was in the process of spilling coffee on himself. Turns out, though, he isn’t such a big fan when it’s actually his life.

What he had expects to see when he opened the bathroom door, was Clint, soapy and wet and naked, barely visible through a steam cloud, giving him what he thought was a “come hither” look that was actually more of a gooney smile. What he finds though, is not that.

While the Ramones are shouting about hitchin’ a ride to Rockaway Beach, Clint, wearing purple swim trunks bedecked with eye-searingly bright yellow flowers, a floppy sun hat, and oversized sunglasses, sipping some drink out of a plastic coconut with entirely too many little umbrellas in it, sprawled out on a giant inflatable…. _thing_ \- it had a flat round base and a tall stick at one side with a face scrawled on it, and two amorphous lumps on the opposite side - that is floating in the ludicrously oversized bathtub.

 “What the fuck…” Bucky starts, but actually doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. There is just SO MUCH going on. So very, very much.

There is no way Clint can hear Bucky over the music, but he is still a spy of the highest caliber and is nearly impossible to sneak up on, though the Winter Soldier probably could, the space between the Winter Soldier and a horny Bucky Barnes could fit several galaxies. Either way, he looked at his boyfriend with the most bland expression Bucky had ever seen on the archer’s normally expressive face.

“So,” Clint starts after messing with his phone to turn the music off, “you’re home. Hi.”

“What the fuck?” Bucky says again, tilting his head to the side, trying to figure out what Clint is sitting on.

“I’m fucking over winter. I can’t take it anymore. So I made myself some summer,” Clint says, easy as you please, as if he isn’t sitting on a giant white floaty that is glaring at Bucky.

“Um, sure. But, uh, what is that thing?” Bucky gestures vaguely at the angry-looking pool float.

“Ridiculous Inflatable Swan Thing.” Clint answers matter-of-factly.

“Right, yeah, that weird inflatable stick on an inflatable cloud thing. What is it?”

“It is called a ‘Ridiculous Inflatable Swan Thing.’ It is terrible, and my new best friend. I haven’t told Tash yet, but I don’t think she will mind when she sees it.”

Bucky has his doubts about that, but is smart enough to keep them to himself. Right now there are more pressing matters at hand.

“So, you made yourself some summer?”

“Yeah. Buck, love, I just can’t take any more clouds and rain and cold and gray. Things have been fine, but it is too much, it has gone on too long, and I am starting to feel like I’m burning my will to live in order to stay warm.” He snickers to himself, “I am wilting without the sun. I’m basically a plant, Barnes.”

“Well, you know, I get the general idea, but I am worried about what it says about me if you are a plant. C’mon, get out of the tub and we can talk more about it over the pizza that is getting cold on the kitchen counter.”

 

**=|=|=|=|=**

 

The next morning, while Clint is in the gym sparring with Natasha, Bucky heads down to Tony’s lab to pick the resident genius’s brain.

“What can I do ya for, bomb pop?” Tony chirps at him.

“I have a question for you. Well, a couple of them, actually. I,” Bucky stops, suddenly at a loss. “I want to take Clint away. A vacation, I guess. Somewhere warm, with lots of sunshine, but I don’t know where. Or where to begin with making those plans. Or how to ask for time off.”

“Well, the last one is easy. Don’t ask, just tell our supreme ruler that you are taking your boy toy and going off the grid for a bit. Neither of you has ever really taken time off from the Avengers, and I’m sure we can manage without you guys for a few weeks. If it comes to it, we can all ways call in Richards and his pissy band of super powered jerks. The rest I can take care of for you.”

 

**=|=|=|=|=**

 

Bucky isn’t entirely sure what happened, but thirty minutes after walking into Tony’s lab he walked out with keys to a beachfront condo in Perth, Australia, and an itinerary that starts at 10:00 tomorrow morning and is blank until 12:00, 15 days from now. One sleep later, and he is sitting in the world’s most comfortable airplane seat, next to a slightly tense, but happy looking Clint.

“Where are we going?” Clint is trying for casual, but missing the mark just a bit.

“Secret.” Bucky replies with a smirk.

“I mean, not really. It is a 16 hour flight. We’re going to Australia or South Africa. Maybe New Zealand. Oh! Is it New Zealand? Will there be hobbitses?” The forced casual tone is gone, and has been replaced by pure excitement.

“That’s not the plan, but we have two weeks with NO plans, so we can do that. If you want.”

 

**=|=|=|=|=**

 

It really doesn’t matter how nice the plane is, even if it is Tony Stark’s personal jet; a 16 hour flight sucks. The hour and a half ride from the airport to the condo that followed wasn’t great either, but it was quickly forgotten as soon as the car stopped and they got a look at their home-away-from-home for the next two weeks.

“You know, I don’t know what I was expecting. He said it was a condo. Does Stark even know what a condo is?” Bucky can’t quite keep the awe out of his voice as he looks at the gorgeous but massive home in front of them.

“You know he doesn’t. Worry about it later. For right now let’s go sleep, and then we can fuck in every room in this place.”

There was nothing to do with that suggestion except follow it. Enthusiastically.

 

**=|=|=|=|=**

 

When Bucky wakes up some ten hours later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and an empty bed. He is hit with a wave of worry, wondering if this was wrong, if this isn’t what Clint was thinking. Without another thought he pulls himself out of bed and follows the scent of coffee to the kitchen, where he finds an official Hawkeye mug sitting in front of the coffee pot and the french doors leading out to the patio open.

Coffee poured, he wanders outside, only to be brought up short by what he sees.

Clint, wearing only his boxers, is sitting on the edge of the pool, coffee mug in hand and feet dangling in the water. The sun is hitting him just right, with his head back and face up, eyes closed and small smile. This is, without question, the most gorgeous thing Bucky has ever seen. His chest tightens with how much he loves this man, and how lucky he is to have him.

“Mornin’,” Bucky says quietly. “Thanks for starting the coffee." 

“Of course. It’s Stark’s, so it’s the good shit.”

“No doubt. He’d have nothing less.” Bucky hesitates before continuing, “So is this ok? Is this better? Even if I did make you leave that fucking swan thing at home?”

Clint opens his eyes and turns to look at him. He’s smiling now, and fuck, if it isn’t the most magnificent thing Bucky’s ever seen.

“Yeah, Buck. This is perfect.”


End file.
